


Long Gone, Most Beloved

by breathe_out



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Depression, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Night Vale, Pre-70A/B, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28783410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathe_out/pseuds/breathe_out
Summary: Pre-Episode 70A/BCecil is lost without Carlos, but his absence is only a fraction of the hurt. The town of Night Vale seems determined to make everything worse.
Relationships: Carlos/Cecil Palmer
Kudos: 11





	Long Gone, Most Beloved

Carlos’s absence was a gaping wound in Cecil’s heart. It was difficult to be separated, but Cecil understood his boyfriend’s passion. After all, Carlos’s exploration of the Otherworld was not born from selfish desire. No – Carlos had a natural curiosity and the wish to discover new things. Perhaps their situation was most comparable to a lover or close friend or family member traveling abroad to study. In any case, he had to remind himself that it was only a short instance of hardship in a long life. 

Cecil never blamed Carlos – even when things were at their worse. Even when he would break down when faced with the loneliness that was supposed to be their home. Or when he began to lose interest in everything. Even when eating became mechanical and sleeping was impossible. 

His ensuing depression was not Carlos’s fault; it was due to Cecil’s dependency on him – not the man himself. So, although things had gotten lonely and tiresome, Cecil had stayed determined to give his boyfriend time away from home. He had lived alone before Carlos, perhaps for decades. 

He would be fine.

But mind control was most definitely _not_ fine. The purchase of lot thirty-seven had finally reared its ugly head. Then, the Faceless Old Woman had taken to tormenting him. This – along with the daily horrors that seemed to haunt Night Vale – had exhausted him. 

The wound in his heart had become raw and irritated. Sometimes Cecil thought that something had truly broken inside him. His chest ached with the weight of emotion pulling him down. His joints ached more often than ever. His eyes ached from fits of crying that would devolve into sobbing so loudly that it echoed through the empty house. Most of all, his body ached with a myriad of bruises and scars from events that he could never remember participating in. 

Carlos called more often than usual, worried, and desperate to fill in some of their lost time together. Cecil came to dread those nightly phone calls. He missed Carlos so much; simply hearing his caramel voice made Cecil nearly burst into tears. The vacation had been far too short; Cecil could feel the memories slipping away already. The days they had shared together felt like a cruel tease of what they had before – what they could have again. 

There is a singular calendar hanging on the wall of their home. Carlos had purchased it nearly a year ago. The calendar had photoshopped pictures of cats and kittens doing science above the label for each month. The month it was pinned on had thick black marks across each day of the week. It was halfway filled. Cecil stared at it for a moment, lost in thought. He had taken to crossing off each day since Carlos was trapped. It was Cecil’s way of reconciling with the fact that time was passing by at a rate that was far too fast for his addled brain to keep track with. 

Had he missed a day? 

He gazed at the paper until all the lines blurred together. Tears were gathering in his eyes. He had hoped each day that passed would be one closer to seeing Carlos again, but it was having the opposite effect. Cecil felt like he was standing on the edge of a chasm that stretched across the earth. The distance between them was palpable. 

In a flash of frustration, Cecil had ripped down the calendar. It clattered to his feet in a heap of paper. His fingers loosened, and the marker in his hand to slip to the floor. Cecil leaned his head against the wall and allowed himself to cry.


End file.
